The thunder is loud in the canyons behind our house – tumbling around like giant boulders playing chase. Rain patters our skylights and soaks our doggies as they go out for their final backyard visit before settling down for the night. Jeans rattle in the dryer, their metal buttons and zippers clacking in rhythm to the rain. It’s a peaceful moment, in what has been an ordinary day around the home front.
I wonder why I even take these few minutes to record this day. Why remember it? Nothing eventful happened. No phone calls of any significance. Even a trip into town might have been noteworthy had I run into someone I know, or didn’t know, but would’ve enjoyed engaging in conversation.
It was a stay-at-home-clean-house-do-laundry-organize-set-things-in-order sort of day.
But it was a day.
Given by a gracious God, to live fully, even in the seemingly mundane moments and tasks.
There was ~
- air to breathe
- an air conditioned home
- pooches to pamper and hug often
- a meal to plan and create (yes, create – cooking is a chore if I make it, but playtime if I create it)
- a husband to greet warmly at the door with a hug and home cooked meal
- clothes to clean and hang in our closets
- a computer that keeps me connected to the outside world on these home days
- words to read
- words to write
- a mind to think
- hands to create “Toddler Busy Bags” for my 18 month old far away granddaughter
- flowers to plant in a pot by the front door
It was indeed, a day.
And I am thankful to the Father for letting me live it.